87 Years
by PotterHead1994
Summary: The Final Battle has left George and Hermione empty and lost, slowly drinking themselves to death. Though dead, Fred has other ideas than the death of his bond-mates, George and Hermione, and intends to see them together and happy. Each struggling with addiction and depression can they heal so that they might live happily? Fred/Hermione/George, no twincest.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: This has not been edited by anyone other than me, please pardon any errors I may have missed when I was proof reading. This fiction will follow cannon with the exception of Hermione and Ron being together post-war. It also features a soul bound relationship between Hermione and Fred and George; there is no sexual relationship between the twins and Fred is dead. If any of this is offensive please do not read. This fiction also includes reincarnation and there is a certain complexity to the situation due to Fred's pre-mature death, I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

**Prologue**

George hated May 2nd. It was the same every year with people over-filling the streets of Diagon Alley laughing and cheering, celebrating the end of a war that many weren't even aware was happening at the time. All the while a lonely man stood in the shadows of a third story window of a brightly colored building that proudly pronounced "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes", dreading the anniversary of his twins death.

How could people be laughing and smiling on the day that so many had given up everything that mattered to them in the world? Poor Teddy Lupin would never remember his doting, clumsy mum or his regal and adoring dad. Severus Snape would only find vindication and appreciation for all of his sacrifices in his death, remaining vilified throughout his life. And Fred. The drop out, the prankster, the genius behind laughter. Fred would never be forgotten and his death would forever scar his best friend, his partner in crime, his twin.

Downing another glass of Odgen's Best George Weasley silently drowned his sorrow, cursing the men and women who dared to celebrate on this darkest day.

Hermione despised the anniversary of the Final Battle. Every year it would come with requests of interviews, unsolicited photographs popping up in every major publication, and articles promising the "The Truest Story of Hermione Granger: War Hero, One Third of the Golden Trio, and Best Friend of the Boy Who Lived". Hiding away in her bedroom a small woman sat silently crying over a pile of photographs.

How people could be celebrating across wizarding Britain, she would never understand. May 2nd may mark the end of the tyranny of Tom Riddle, but it also marked the loss of so many lives. Lives lost on that day in 1998 and lives lost in the course of over two decades previously. The havoc that one man could wreck did not surprise her; after all she had grown up hearing about another man not unlike Tom Riddle by the name of Adolf Hitler. What did astound her was that people could so easily forget the sacrifices that people had made.

Looking down at faces that were in various states of happiness tears poured down Hermione Granger's cheeks as a choked sob escaped her quivering lips. With a grimace she lifted a trembling bottle to her lips and swallowed another gulp.

In place not unlike Heaven a ginger-haired man watched as the two people he had loved most in the world drowned in their sorrows. Beside him another man with sandy hair streaked with grey, rested his hand on the ginger's shoulder.

"It's been 3 years Fred, and they aren't moving on. If anything they are going kill themselves within the next year," whispered Remus, "I think it's time that we step in."

Silently Fred nodded. It hadn't been easy to watch his brother fall into a never ending depression, nor their bond-mate. It was funny how some things didn't become clear until death, like how little Hermione Granger was the soul mate of him and his twin. Leaving school and the search for horcrux's had not given them the opportunity to recognize the bond, and Fred's own death had severely damaged it. He couldn't help but blame himself for the unrecognized bond; it was he who had always had the idea that Hermione might have been their third but Ron's infatuation had kept him from ever testing the theory.

"They are so lost in their depression that they don't realize that they are feeding each other's pain. She doesn't even fully understand why she is so lost, and he can't get past my death to find her." Fred scowled darkly, "You would think my twin would realize she was out there; no person can survive the death of both their bond-mates."

Remus squeezed Fred's shoulder, "It's not always that simple Fred. Think about how long it took me to recognize Nymphadora."

"We've been together in every life we have ever lived. He is not incompetent just because I'm not there and I refuse to let them wither away because I died." Eye's flashing Fred turned away from the images of his beloved brother and their witch, "They have another 80 to 90 years before I'll let them die, and we can be re-born."

"You're willing to wait that long until you can see them again?" It wasn't that Remus doubted that Fred was willing to wait that long, but that the man had the capability to. In circumstances where trio's such as the one of the Weasley twins and Hermione, the remaining bond mates rarely lived the full length of wizards and witches. Missing one third of a soul took its toll on the body, even when the surviving bond-mates were in a healthy state of mind, and usually the deceased bond mate's longing for the survivors eventually pulled them into death so that they could be re-born again.

Fred was unwilling to admit it but his own thoughts had drifted down a similar path, how long could he really last without pulling George and Hermione to him?

"I think that they deserve it this time. There was one life when Hermione died during child birth. She gave us a beautiful boy, I can't remember his name but we held on for 35 years after she died." Fred clenched his hands unconsciously, "I want to let her and George to raise a baby together, she already missed out on that once and I don't want it to happen again." While there wasn't a baby yet, Fred hated the idea of that potential dying. Hermione and George may not know it, but she was the descendent of that baby boy and it didn't seem right to let the line die with the same women who had given life to it.

"In that case, do you reckon that they'll let you? How do you think Hermione will react when she finds out that she will have to wait until her next life to have that bond with you? Don't you think that George will feel guilty having her while you are dead?" Remus' piercing grey eyes met Fred's, and he couldn't help but wonder if the man had really thought his plan through, "Wouldn't it be better for them to bond, live out a decade or two without you and then die?

"The three of you will never truly be happy until your souls are on the same plane. On that plane or this one, bond-mates are meant to be together Fred. In that life with the boy, you had a reason to live. Let them bond and make the most of this life, but don't prolong the suffering of yourself and them. It wouldn't be right."

The glare on Fred's face made Remus remove his hand, "The thing about living many lives Remus, is that you have to learn to take the good with the bad. We can't let go of life every time one of our bond-mates dies. Though I wish it weren't true, but this won't be the last time one of us dies prematurely." Returning his gaze to the images of his bond-mates Fred didn't notice Remus walking away.

He had to do something. Hermione and George had passed out, both lying in crumpled heaps with the whiskey within reach. Remus might not understand it, but he couldn't bear for his bond-mates to live a less than full life. He would bring them together and then he would wait. After all, what is 80 to 90 years when you're already dead?

**Chapter One**

When Harry arrived at Hermione's small cottage he wasn't sure what he was going to find, yesterday had marked the third year since Voldemort had been defeated and his friend had been sinking into a deeper depression as May 2nd had neared. Ever since the Final Battle she had been different and seemed to pull away from everyone around her unless she was drug out of her home to see friends and family. As he stepped out of the fire place he could smell the lingering scent of stale alcohol that always seemed to linger in a room after extensive drinking occurred and sighed, knowing that his friend had been drinking in an uncharacteristic manner that was becoming more frequent. Walking to through the living room to the back of the house he knocked twice on Hermione's bedroom door before entering when he heard nothing.

She was lying in a crumpled heap on her bed on top of a spread out pile of pictures. Upon closer inspection Harry realized that the pictures were of the Order, Fred, Colin, and Remus and Tonks among others. Her curly hair was covering her face and her fingers were wrapped loosely around the neck of a mostly empty bottle of cheap whiskey which she had clearly been drinking from. Gently pushing her hair from her face with a sigh Harry took the bottle out of her hand and banished it from the room not wanting her to be tempted by the bottle later. As he started to pick her up Hermione began to wake, wrapping her arms around him neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

"They're all dead 'Arry," she slurred, looking up at him with blood shot eyes.

"I know Mione," Harry replied, "You want to take a shower for me, love?" Hermione nodded her head against his chest, her eyes closed again.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, people are worried about you, you know? Your mum called me this morning because she hasn't heard from you in a month since you never showed up for your dad's birthday party," Harry carefully carried Hermione into her bathroom, sitting her atop the toilet seat. "Now, you need to take a hang-over remedy, get in that shower, brush your teeth, and call your mum. And then the two of us are going to have a long talk."

Hermione dutifully accepted the offered vial from her oldest friend and swallowed its contents watching Harry as he walked out of her bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Giving the potion a couple minutes to kick in she rested her head in her hands, trying to recall what had happened the night before. She remembered opening the memory box filled with pictures and crying her until she ran out of tears. She also remembered the bottle of whiskey and the harsh burn of it as it went down.

Turning on her shower and stepping into the claw-footed antique tub she let the water fall over her face. Harry was right, God bless him. Her mother was probably past being angry at her and her father beside himself with worry. Deftly washing and conditioning her hair, she closed her eyes. She had been a horrible friend and daughter of late, plagued with an all-consuming depression. If she was honest with herself it had started after the Final Battle.

The people they had lost weighed heavily on her heart and she felt guilty at the depth of her grief. George has lost his twin, Ron's heart was broken after Lavender, and Teddy had been orphaned; what right did she have to be upset still? She wasn't the one who would have to live the rest of her life without the people she loved most. Rinsing her body and hair she turned off the shower head. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to be better, it was just that she couldn't bring herself to leave her house most days and that she found more comfort from a bottle than her own friends. Hermione wrapped her towel around her head and tightened the ties on her terry cloth robe before finding Harry in her kitchen.

"You look better at least," he said as he pushed a plate filled with scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. "I wanted to make an omelet but you have practically nothing in your cupboard and fridge."

Hermione blushed, unable to remember the last time she had gone shopping for food, "Thank you Harry, you didn't have to."

"It doesn't look like you can afford to lose any more weight and since I'm here, I might as well."

Quietly she took small bites, pausing a couple times to sip at the orange juice that was positioned to the right of her plate. Hermione pushed her plate back towards Harry when she was full. At his glare she pulled it back towards her and slowly finished it off, feeling as though she would burst.

"I don't suppose you would rather talk to me before I call my mum?" She questioned.

"No, I think I'll wait until you are done talking to her." When her face fell Harry smiled softly, "I can see that you're okay, your mum can't."

Nodding her head Hermione picked her cell phone, having long sense managed to create a spell that would allow muggle technology to function properly with magic around, and dialed her mum. She talked to her mum for about 30 minutes before hanging up with promises to visit and call more often. Though her mum didn't yell at her, Hermione could tell that she was glad she had called but still angry that she had missed her dad's birthday party. She looked at Harry fidgeting on the bar stool and waiting for him to start their discussion.

"I'm worried about you Mione. Over the last three years you've been getting worse, hiding away during the day and drinking yourself half to death night. I know that the war was hard for you and I know that it takes time to heal from that. From what Ginny has said, George is doing about as well as you are." Harry paused to lift her chin up so that he could look her in the eye.

"We want you to get better, you and George. We want you to stop drinking and we want you to heal. Ginny found a muggle meeting that you can attend every week to help you stop drinking and find healthier ways to deal with your pain. I think that if you and George go together then you can hold each other accountable and can help each other with the things that you can't go telling muggles." Harry looked at Hermione, waiting for her response.

"How exactly do you think you are going to sell this idea to George, Harry? You say you understand but I don't think you do. You are made of stronger stuff than me, and it's not as though you lost your twin now is it? Not all of us can handle death and Dark Lords and come out as fully functional adults." Hermione jerked her chin away, closing her eyes, "Not all of us are going to ever be fully functional adults." Harry walked around the kitchen counter to stand in front of his second oldest friend.

"No, I just lost my parents when I was barely a year old, how could I possibly understand? Maybe the problem here Hermione is that you aren't trying to get better? Did you ever consider that when you were wallowing in your grief? Maybe if you made an effort to live, it wouldn't be so hard!" He didn't realize he'd been yelling until he finished speaking and saw that Hermione was crying.

"Ginny and I are going to pick you up tomorrow at 9:30pm and we'll be dropping you off at your first meeting. I just want you to get better, and if you don't stop drinking you are going to drink yourself to death. That's not how the brightest witch of our age should be remembered." Pulling her into his arms, he held her tight.

"If you can get George to go, I will. I promise you, Harry." Hermione clutched Harry to her, "I'm going to start trying to get better."

Nodding his agreement Harry pulled away and walked to her fire place, "Don't forget, 9:30 tomorrow night." As he disappeared into the green flames Hermione wondered if her day could get any worse.

Deciding that it could get worse, she grabbed a glass and a new bottle of whiskey and took it to her bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

When Ginny apparated just outside of George's flat above the shop she was not nearly so nice as Harry had been. Forming her hand into a fist the irate women pounded on the door, each hit louder and harder than the one before it. She didn't stop until George pulled the door open looking equally angry and unattractively disheveled. Shoving past her older brother Ginny entered his apartment and made a face as she surveyed the space.

"This place is a sty George Fabian Weasley." She looked her brother over more closely, "And you'd best be thankful mum isn't here to see you still hung over and unwashed at two in the afternoon."

George scowled at his sister, "Did you just come to nag and yell? Because if that's all, you know the way out." Shutting his front door he made his way into his kitchen to swallow a hang-over potion and make a cup of tea. He didn't bother to ask Ginny if she would like any preferring that she leave sooner rather than later.

"As a matter of fact I came to tell you that starting tomorrow you are attending group therapy for your alcohol problem. Mum stopped by yesterday to check on you, wanting to make sure you were okay, and found you passed out on your bathroom floor." Ginny moved into the kitchen to look her brother in the eye, "She thought you were dead at first, sure that you had finally drank yourself to death. You can't keep doing this, Fred wouldn't like it and it wouldn't be right for mum to have to bury both of you."

George ignored her, feeling a pang of guilt drive through his chest. He had never intended for his mum to see him like that, not after Fred. He had just wanted to forget for a while and had he known she was going to stop by he would have done things differently. The tea kettle whistled and he poured it into a brightly colored mug with his favorite blend of lemon tea.

"This group meets every week, Sunday at 9:30pm. Harry intends for Hermione to go with you too. Figured you both need to sober up and that you can tell each other what you can't tell muggles." If he wasn't going to talk Ginny figured she could go on, "Everyone is worried about you George, and mum is terrified that you're going to die. If nothing else, then do this for her."

He sipped at his tea in silence, a battle between the guilt's of living while Fred was dead and a hurting his mum and family by willing himself into the grave waging within him.

"Harry told me that Hermione is getting worse, he went to her place this morning and found her pretty much the same way mum found you. Rather than on her bathroom floor though she was on her bed, crumpled over pictures. He said that the only way she was going to this meeting tomorrow night is if you go." She moved closer to her brother and wrapped him in a hug, "Maybe if you guys go together you can both get better. It's never going to be the same, but we really miss you both. The old version of you."

Taking another fortifying sip of tea George loosely wrapped his other arm around his sister, returning her embrace, "Once a week on Fridays, and if I don't go Granger won't?" Ginny nodded, hesitant to say anything that might make him not go.

"Fine, tell her I'll go. I'll do my best to do better, but not promises Gin. Twins aren't meant to be separated like this, it's unnatural." Giving her brother another squeeze Ginny smiled up at him.

"Are you going to offer me tea now?" She asked.

Playfully shoving her away George started heating more water in the kettle, "Any tea preferences?"

"Earl grey if you have it and no-" Ginny abruptly trailed off, 'and not a trick version' had been at the tip of her tongue. Everyone knew that George hadn't made any new pranks since Fred had died. Most people didn't realize it but George was the logistical one who made things happen and Fred was the one who came up with their most successful ideas. It wasn't to say that George didn't have prank ideas or that Fred was incapable of bringing an idea to life, just that they each had areas that they were slightly better skilled at than the other.

George gave his sister a sad smile as if he could read her mind, "He mentioned something like that, figured we could make a whole line of them, like our Wonder Witch products, and have pureblood girls lining the streets trying to purchase them to use on rivals." Georges smile grew, "Imagine having Augusta Longbottom serving 'Green in the Face Green Tea' to Narcissa Malfoy or one of the Patil sisters offering Parkinson a 'Barking Biscuit' to go with her pug nose." Ginny started to shake with laughter, gasping for air, and George couldn't help but join in.

"I would pay a months salary to see Pansy after she ate a 'Barking Biscuit'!" She gasped.

When the tea kettle began to whistle George carefully readied a mug and added a sachet of earl grey to it before pouring the hot water over it, "Maybe it's something I'll work on, don't go telling mum though. I don't think she'd know whether to rage or be overjoyed that I'm working on pranks again."

"If I told mum she'd be checking pockets every time she tried to serve tea and the first time one got past her she would send you a howler worse than the one Ron got his second year." She carefully accepted the mug from George and warmed her fingers with it before scourgifying his couch so she could sit. Rolling his eyes George followed Ginny to sit on his couch, casting a few housekeeping charms to start cleaning up the apartment.

"I think that I've had enough howlers from her over the years, thank you. I'm pretty sure you and Bill are the only ones who never got one. Charlie did after mum found out he was going to work on a dragon reserve and Percy received his back when he was up Scrimgeour's arse. Fred and I received our fair share, sometimes we even got each others. And we all remember Ron's." He smiled reminiscently, thinking of a time when things were infinitely simpler and happier.

"Well, if Harry and I don't do something soon I might break that streak." Ginny toyed with the string coming out of her mug.

George looked over at his sister more closely. He had been a horrible brother and son lately, for the last three years to be more exact. Like most other people, he had always known that Ginny and Harry would wind up together. He wasn't sure if it was because of the couples uncanny resemblance to Harry's parents but they had always seemed perfect for each other.

"Is everything alright? Because if he's being a git I'll take care of it, no one messes with my favorite sister and gets away with it."

She shook her head quickly, "It's just... well we might have forgotten to use certain spells. And we only found out last week, but there is no way mum is going to be okay with it. She'll want us to get married right away and we've been wanting to wait so we can avoid the attentions of the press and it seems wrong to post an engagement announcement this close to the anniversary of the Final Battle..."

George's eyes widened, "Are you saying that you're pregnant Ginny?"

She nodded.

A true smile covered Georges face and he closed his eyes imagining his sister and Harry hold their first baby, "I don't think that this could happen at a better time, it'll give others something to look forward to. It's life out of death Gin."

Ginny smiled, wrapping her older brother into another hug, "I'm glad you think so. You're the first person I told other than Harry. To be honest, the news is part of what gave us this push to reach out to you and 'Mione. We want the two of you to be the god-parents and we can't give you that responsibility if you aren't fully dependable."

"I'm honored. I'll make sure that we both get better, can't have the little rug-rat born without it's god-parents ready for it." For the first time in a long while George felt like things might be getting better, now if only Fred was here for it too.

After Ginny had left George began cleaning his flat in earnest. He collected all of his bottles of alcohol and dumped them down the drain, tossing out any glassware that might be used while drinking too. He dusted, washed, and polished pausing for only a minute over his favorite moving picture of Fred and him. Placing back in it's position in the middle of the mantle he ran a single finger over his twins face.

"I wish you were here for this. We could tell Ginny that she has to make both of us god-fathers since we are identical. It's probably a good thing she picked Granger to balance me out too, can't have the kid getting into to much trouble." George continued to clean up his flat and looking under the couch cushions found a few old issues of PlayWitch magazine, with a smirk he shoved them back where he found them.

"I wonder what your thing about her was, never letting us prank her and even going after Ron when he was particularly mean to her. I wish you had told me what it was. She always was an enticing little witch, a spitfire you called her..." He trailed off, casting charms to wash the dishes that he had levitated to sit beside the sink.

Entering his bathroom he groaned. It was by far the most disgusting room in the flat and would probably take more than a few charms to clean it. Tugging up his sleeves he set to work.

"You know I used to think you had a crush on her but when ever I would question it you would get all silent like and be no fun for the rest of the night. And then again there was that one time when were still with Angelina, when she said something about her being a know-it-all. I thought you were going to hex her right then and there." George narrowed his eyes so that he could pretend the reflection in the mirror was actually his twin, "But you never said a thing, Gred."

Superstitiously he wiped at his eyes before tears could form, "I will never forgive you for leaving me. Never." Turning away from the mirror he went back to furiously cleaning the flat, pretending that he hadn't just had a conversation with his dead brother.

Fred closed his eyes wearily. The only thing that made death bearable was that he was able to watch George and Hermione but watching George and Hermione was also the worst of curses. Hermione was laying passed out in her bedroom despite her promises to Harry and her mother. Her cheeks seemed to been perpetually stained red from tears after the last two nights. For what felt like the millionth time, he reached out for her in her dreams.

Hermione was swinging higher and higher on an old fashioned swing set. She could feel the rough wood warming beneath her and the slightly scratchy feel of the rusted chains that her hands were holding. When she felt someone begin to push her even higher she didn't panic, she knew that she was asleep where nothing could hurt her.

"Mione love, you promised Harry that you would try." The whispered accusation was almost enough to make her flinch.

"He doesn't understand. It's like a part of me dead and I just want to be whole again. The only way I'll ever be whole again is if I'm dead." The calm conviction of her words made the person behind her jerk the swing to a stop. She sat patiently, waiting for the person behind her to step forward so that she could see his face.

"I know how you feel, believe me," Fred moved into her line of sight, he eyes taking her in.

Hermione smiled sadly, "Fred, I was starting to think I was never going to talk to you again. Why aren't you with George? I know he misses you."

"Because he doesn't need me nearly as much as you do right now. He's keeping his promise to Ginny," He reached out to run his fingers over her face, when ever she dreamed she looked just the way she should; not under weight or aged beyond her years and no tear stains. She looked perfect.

"I thought we had talked about not willing yourself into death? We had agreed that you should stay here and look after George," Fred began to gently push her on the swing again, this time from the front so he could watch her face.

"You know I can't consciously remember these dreams. Last time you told me that George and I are unconsciously feeding each others depression and grief, so I don't really see how you can blame me for this. You said that the three of us are soul bonded and that we belong together... Why don't you want us with you?" Hermione knew that she was twisting Fred's words but it all seemed so unfair.

"I want the two of you to make something beautiful out of this life. Just because I'm not with you doesn't mean that you can't enjoy it. I'm still with you, in your heart," He placed his hand over her heart, desperate to make her understand.

She closed her eyes enjoying the phantom feel of his hand on her chest. It seemed so unfair that she could only have him in her dreams and that once she awoke she would forget about all of it. No more knowing that he loved her, no more knowing that they were bond mates, and no more sense of purpose in life. If only she could remember to find to George when she woke up.

"Do you talk to George about me? Tell him to find me so that we can help each other?" She asked softly.

"Of course I do. It never works with him, just like it never works with you. That's why you have to go to those meetings. You've both agreed to go, you know. I think I might be making some progress with working into your conscious thoughts." Fred started to feel himself being pulled away again and knew it could mean only one thing.

"You're waking up Mione, you have to go to that meeting tonight. You promised Harry."

"Fred don't leave me, not again. I'm not waking up I promise..."

But it was already to late. Hermione sat up on her bed with a gasp. Ever since the Final Battle she had been having dreams that she could never remember. She always woke up feeling like she had lost something, and this morning it was no different.

Rather than taking one of her hangover potions she decided to punish herself by working through it with no potions and no muggle medicine. She had promised Harry she would try to stop and no sooner than he had left her home she was back to drinking. It would end today. She was supposed to go to that meeting, if George agreed to go that was. For some reason she was certain that he had agreed, though she had no real reason to feel that conviction.

Moving through her morning routine like a woman possessed she dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and one of the boys old quidditch jerseys. Then she began to clean out her kitchen in much the same fashion that George had, unbeknownst to her. From there she opened every window in her small cottage that sat a few miles outside of Ottery St. Catchpole.

Though she would never consider herself to be a domestic, she did know her fair share of household charms that made the task of cleaning her home from top to bottom much less daunting. As her washer and dryer hummed cleaning her cloths and a vacuum made it's way across her many rugs, she set out to make a grocery list. By noon she had managed to set her home back to rights and she was thankful that May 2nd had been on a Saturday this year, not sure how she would explain her absence from work to Kingsley.

Hermione changed into a set of day robes, grabbed her purse and wand and apparated to wizarding London. She glanced around her to make sure that she hadn't been followed, a habit that had once been lifesaving during the war and now just a reminder of her overly anxious tendencies. Sure that she hadn't been followed she made her way to her favorite food market.

Some things from the muggle world were starting to infiltrate wizarding culture, such as organic food and vegetarian fare. This market was one of the places that regularly stocked the organic and vegetarian items that Hermione preferred and was run by Tonks' mum, Andromeda. As she entered the small specialty shop she looked around eagerly for a small but very mobile Teddy Lupin.

Sure enough when the metamorphmagus three year old heard the door's bell ring he toddled over as quickly as he could. When he saw that it was Hermione his little legs moved even faster so that he might reach her. Hermione scooped up the giggling boy and rubbed her nose adoringly against his own.

"It's just Hermione, Andromeda," the young witch called, not wanting Andromeda to worry as she often did when it came to her grandson.

"I was wondering if I was going to go another week without seeing you dear, you are usually here every Monday shortly after you get out of work." The older witches eyes studied her closely, noting that even the voluminous robes couldn't hide the loss of weight anymore.

"It's been a rough couple weeks, I'm sorry to have worried you. How have you and the little man been doing?" Teddy's hair grew curlier and assumed the tawny shade brown of Hermione's, his little hands tugging on her long hair. Hermione took her turn to study the woman whom she had become so close to after the war ended, Andromeda also appeared to have lost some weight and looked older than the last time she had seen her.

"Better, it's gets a little easier every year you know. Lately he's began to ask questions about them. I flooed Harry yesterday so that I could go to their graves on my own. It doesn't seem right to take him there so young. Remus and Dora wouldn't want him to remember them by a stone." Noticing his grandmother was upset Teddy reached for her and Hermione carefully handed the sturdy boy over.

Hermione nodded her head, "If you ever need anything, anything at all, let me know. It's no big deal if you need someone to talk to or even a break from our favorite little monster." She picked up a basket and looked over her list, quickly gathering the items she had listed and a few extra that caught her eye.

"You and Harry, I swear that you intend to steal him from me." Andromeda laughed softly, "I don't suppose you might consider starting our weekly lunches again?"

Hermione blushed but nodded her head, "Wednesdays still work for you? I don't know what Kingsley was thinking by trying to organize ministry wide luncheons."

Andromeda sat Teddy on the counter beside her as she tallied up Hermione's purchases, "It sounds lovely, even if the Leaky leaves something to be desired most days."

Waving her goodbyes Hermione left the shop, rushing to get back to the apparition point. As she bustled through the crowds of wizarding London she almost didn't hear her name being called.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading once again, I hope that you have enjoyed this installment of _87 Years_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

George hurried to catch up to Granger, he'd seen her leaving Andromeda's shop and felt compelled to reach out to her. Maybe it was because of the meeting they were going to tonight or maybe it was because he couldn't get it out of his head that Fred had a thing for her. When she finally heard him and turned around he waved his arm wildly, a signature Weasley grin on his face. He could see what Ginny had been talking about; he didn't think that she had been that thin after the year that she, Harry, and Ron had been searching for horcuxes.

Hermione was relieved that it had been George calling her name and once they made eye content some of the tension left her body. The last few times she had been in wizarding London it had been a battle to avoid reporters and strangers alike all wanting something from her that she just didn't have to give. As she made her way towards him she failed to notice the curious eyes that were darting between the two reclusive war heroes.

"I'm glad I caught you, saves the trouble of flooing or sending you an owl. Do you think that we can head some where for a late lunch?" George unconsciously shielded the woman in front of him from the shoves and bumps of people passing by.

"Would you mind very much heading into muggle London?" She asked nervously, pushing a few wild curls back from her face.

With a nod the pair set off to the apparition point, neither noticing George's hand lightly guiding her from her waist or the frantic clicking of a camera as they walked off.

Hermione apparated them to an alley way a few blocks away from one of her favorite muggle dinners, gently disentangling herself from the arm that wrapped securely around her waist for the trip. She then shrugged out of her robes, shrinking them and stowing them away in the bottom of her purse. Noticing that George was trying to peek around the corner she jerked him back by his robes before he could be seen.

"George Weasley get back here, you know better! Take off those robes, I'll hang onto them while we're out," Hermione's tone was reminiscent of their school days; prim, proper, and just the slightest bit disapproving.

He rolled his eyes but did as he was asked, pulling the robes over his head by tugging them up over his back in a distinctly masculine way. He was wearing worn jeans and long sleeve shirt, a good combination for the early May weather in London. George looked at Hermione curiously as she stared, feeling more than a male pride at his ability to attract witches. Her tawny hair seemed as curly and wild as it ever had, though perhaps less frizzy, and her weight loss was even more obvious without the cover of bulky robes. Even under-nourished she was a lovely woman, reminding him of a Roman Goddess Diana.

Hermione's eyes ran over George taking in the hair that he had grown out since he had lost his ear that seemed to curl just the slightest it at the tips. It did not escape her notice that he had filled out even more since leaving school, quiet the feat considering that he had already been a broad shouldered and corded muscle beater. When she dared to take another glance at his face she realized that she had not been alone in her perusal of him and cleared her throat as she pulled an umbrella out of her purse.

"Just in case, can't use water repellent charms in muggle London," she smiled nervously.

"Er, right. Did you have a particular place in mind? I'm famished," George patted his non-existent stomach in true Weasley fashion.

Grinning and shaking her head Hermione lead the way out of the alley, "There's a dinner just around the corner, hopefully you can make it there."

The pair walked down the street in a companionable silence making their way to the dinner that Hermione pointed out. It was similar to the one that she, Harry, and Ron had went to right after Fleur and Bill's wedding although it was significantly less dingy and appeared to follow all health codes.

George let her lead the way, sitting across from her in the cozy and private booth she had selected. A pudgy graying waitress dropped off a couple menus and took their drink orders before walking away with the same disinterested look on her face. He watched as Hermione discretely cast a notice-me-not charm.

"Won't that make her not come back to our table?"

"Oh, well, Carla's mum is a squib and she has a little more magic than her but she never went to Hogwarts. She mostly lives as a muggle but she does try to keep up on what's going on in the wizarding world too. It's really quite complicated but she'll be back." Hermione was rambling the way she always seemed to when she was nervous or unsure of herself and anxiously tucked her hair behind her ears.

"In that case why don't you recommend something to me," he suggested.

"The breakfast platter is pretty good it's got eggs, hash browns, bacon, pancakes, and a side of fruit. So is the tomato basil soup with a grilled cheese sandwich though, that's probably what I will get. And they have really good malts."

Carla dropped off Hermione's ice water with lemon and Georges orange soda, waiting patiently for their orders. Hermione rattled hers off, requesting an extra pickle and chocolate malt. George stumbled through his order of a breakfast platter and vanilla malt.

"I heard you got a visit from Harry."

She nodded her head pushing the lemon in her water down with her straw, completely focused on the task to avoid looking at George.

"Ginny said you'd go to those meetings if I did too..." George trailed off, watching Hermione intently.

She nodded her head again and he stared at the narrow wrist her jumper revealed thinking again on how skinny she was.

"Well, I can floo into your place, if that's okay, so Harry and Gin can make sure we get there. They seem pretty intent on babysitting us at the moment."

Hermione nodded again, chewing on her lower lip as her eyes darted up to look at his face.

"I've... I've had a hard time, since the Final Battle, and I don't think Harry trusts me." Hermione paused and glanced up at George, "I'm not certain that he should trust me either." In that moment Hermione felt herself become overwhelmed with guilt again at her drinking the night before.

Georges face fell, though it was more like a mask was being lifted. He knew exactly what she felt about not deserving the trust of his friends and family. If it wasn't for what Ginny had told him he wasn't sure that he would have half a chance at recovering. For the first time since Fred died he felt as though there was someone who understood him completely. Despite the gravity of their situation he somehow felt like this was how things were supposed to be and that maybe, just maybe, he could recover from losing his twin.

"We'll keep each other honest and earn their trust. You just need to find what gives you a reason to move on," George made sure she was looking him in the eye. "Did you clean out your home? Get rid of all of it?"

She nodded her head, "I went in a rampage this morning. It's all gone now."

It was her turn to study him and she noticed the same tired circles under his eyes that she had and that impossibly his laugh lines around his eyes and mouth seemed smaller, as if they had never been there in the first place. George looked somber now that he wasn't smiling. Somber and older than his years.

"That's good then. We're both living life dry now. From now on we are each others plus one, this way, at parties and such, we don't have to be alone drinking club sodas." If he was to be completely honest George wasn't sure if he wanted to lay claim on being Grangers date for that precise reason, but it made sense to him.

Just then Carla dropped off their plates, warning both of them the dishes were hot. For the rest of their lunch neither had much to say though Hermione found it hard to forget the tingling feeling she got when George stated they would be each others date to gatherings.

Fred smiled as he watched his bond mates eat their late lunch, already he could feel the bond strengthening and the pairs depression seemed alleviated for the time being. The more time they spend together the stronger the bond would grow. He could tell they were starting to feel the effects of the bond too, and he wondered how long it would take George to read the letter he had left for him.

He and George had each written letters, in case one or both of them died, and George still hadn't opened the one he left for him. Fred had figured out pretty early on that they had a bond mate that they shared and had spent a fair amount of time researching it before his death. It was something that he had planned to bring up after the Final Battle, especially the part about Hermione possibly being their third. That was probably his biggest regret: not telling George and not telling Hermione. Part of their suffering was because he never made the time to talk to his brother about something that affected them equally. Now, when they could have been helping each other through this, they were dipping their toes into addressing the attraction between them while dealing with their pain alone.

Tonks watched the scene from beside him silently, her arm wrapped around him in a comforting manner. Dying had been an unique experience that she was glad she would not be repeating. The idea of living life after life seemed exhausting, even to the life loving Nymphadora Lupin nee Tonks. It amazed her that the twins and Mione did it over and over, always finding each other and loving each other. She missed her son and mum dearly but it was soothing to know that they had each other, Harry, and Hermione to look after them.

"They miss you," she whispered.

"I know."

"They need you Fred. Remus told me what you said to him." Tonks paused before continuing gently, "You can't really expect them to go on without you, can you?"

Fred gestured to the pair as they kept sneaking glances at each other between bites and conversation, "Look how happy they are in this moment, how could I ever deny them a life together? I love my brother dearly, but even we have jealous moments. Fate separated us but that doesn't mean they shouldn't enjoy their time together. Each life is precious, you never know when it might be the last one."

"They might be happy now but what happens when she can't look at him without wishing she had you too? What happens when he feels guilty for being with her when you can't?"

"When they complete the bond they will remember our past lives and they will know that I want them to be happy." Fred's reply held an aura of confidence that made Tonks look at him more closely.

"If you ever need us, we're here for you."

He nodded his thanks, still watching his bond mates through the pool. His mind kept drifting back to the letter that he had left for George that contained the instructions for two spells. The first spell would give him the name of their bond mate, Hermione. The second would cement the bond, making it unbreakable and providing protection for them as well. He just needed George to read that letter.

George kept looking at the ostentatious clock on the living room wall of his flat. His lunch with Hermione had been a long one and he had really enjoyed it, finding that he was anxious to see her again. It was only a little after seven and he wasn't due to be there until a little before 9:30 though he couldn't help wondering what he would do if he showed up early. With a quick shake of his head he stood up and walked over to the door that lead to Fred's room.

Resting his forehead on the door with his large hand splayed across wood he wondered what Fred would have him do. He knew that in the first drawer of the bedside table a letter was addressed to him but even after three years he hadn't been able to work up the courage to enter the room. Fred was never coming back and for some reason reading that letter would only make that all the more real. If he tried really hard George could convince himself that his twin was away for some reason, maybe going to the Flurish and Blotts to pick up a book that he wanted.

Without noticing it George's hand clenched into a fist, knuckles white and veins prominent, before he whirled away from the door making his way to the kitchen. Hands shaking he set about brewing himself a cup of tea. Fred had always been willing to go pick up items that George wanted when working on a new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product, he said that the walk always made him feel more useful.

Unable to bear being in the flat that he once shared with his twin Fred went to his fire place, grabbed a handful of floo powder and clearly stated "Hermione Granger's Cottage".

Hermione was nervously nursing a cup of tea when her fire place flared to life and an agitated George landed on her rug. After letting out a yelp at the surprise she moved to help him up. The offer for help made him smile, he doubted her small body would be able to pull him up.

She returned the smile once he was standing, "You're early, is everything okay?"

"I just needed to get out of the flat, not always the easiest place to be," George said as he fixed his hair over his missing left ear.

Cautiously she reached out, her hand ghosting over where the ear should be. She remembered how scared Fred had been, how it had been a wake up call that any of them could die. When Mad Eye never made it back the realization had been cemented as they had lost one of their best.

"Sometimes I can still feel it you know? Only it's not ear." George's faced shifted into a full smile at the joke.

"George that's just horrible! How can you make jokes like that?" Hermione's diction was as proper as ever and George questioned if her aghast was at the joke itself or the lack of diction used to employ it.

"Com'on Mione, it was funny. Honestly, I don't know why you weren't expecting it from me."

Hermione playfully narrowed her eyes, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

George's brown eyes twinkled playfully, "Well, you would think after all these years you might get used to the jokes and pranks."

She blushed and turned away, heading into her small but tidy kitchen, "Would you like some tea or something to eat?"

He replied with an affirmative watching as she moved gracefully and efficiently around her kitchen. She set the kettle on her stove first and then collected a mug to serve him with, placing the lemon tea bag he requested into the mug. Once the water was ready she poured it into the mug and gathered a plate of cookies to bring into the living room with her.

"Thanks, you didn't have to go to all the trouble."

"It's nothing. I've been a little anxious about tonight."

George nodded, "Me too. But how bad can it be, they're muggles?"

"Muggles take addiction recovery very seriously."

"Well it's a good thing we are both so serious about then. We'll get through this together Mione." George munched on a cookie between sips of tea, wondering when Ginny and Harry would tell her about their baby.

Hermione nodded a sipped at her tea which was cooling quickly, "When did you start calling me Mione? Only Harry and Ron have ever called me that."

George colored slightly, "Actually, Fred and I started that one. Harry and Ron overheard us using it once and they sort of claimed it. You have to admit that 'Hermione' is a bit of mouthful."

"That's odd." Catching the slightly hurt glint in George's eye she quickly added on, "That I never heard you call me that. Harry and Ron have been using that for ages and I've stopped trying to get them to stop. It's sort of grown on me."

The pair shared a smile before sitting in a companionable silence broken only when Hermione offered to make a second cup of tea and when George asked where the bathroom was. Together things didn't seem so bad and for the first time in months Hermione was feeling more like her old self. Being around George was pleasant too, she had always known the twins were scarily smart but the quiet way they carried it was intriguing.

While she was lost in thought George took the opportunity to study her some more, remembering when he had seen her at the Yule Ball her fourth year. It was the first time he realized how pretty she was and what a beautiful witch she would mature into. When he had made a comment to Fred his brother had given him a disbelieving look, surprised it had taken him that long to realize it. Out of the pair it had always been Fred who had been a little more out going and a little more edgy when it came to pranks. People seldom realized how quiet he could be with Fred around and now that he was gone they assumed it was because his twin was gone.

The time passed quickly and as it neared a quarter after nine Hermione gathered their empty mugs and the half eaten plate of cookies to take into the kitchen. This time George followed and he washed while Hermione dried, looking for all the world an loving couple. Just as they finished Hermione's fire place roared to life for the second time that evening as Harry and Ginny entered her home.

When Hermione and George unconsciously clasped hands the married couple noticed, sharing a secret look.

Authors Note: Did you know that Hermione is not called Mione once in the novels? It's become so common-place in fanfiction that if I didn't remember the first time I read it in a story I wouldn't believe it. Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed this installment of 87 Years.

-PotterHead1994


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